Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Lightning. ❯ Chapter, The Fifty-Ninth: In Which No One is Alone. ( Chapter 59 )

Kitty: Waa, so tired... -falls on Eoko- You do the author's notes.

Eoko: Nuh-uh. I already waited for you to do the update. I'm not doing the A/Ns alone now.

Kitty: -snore-

Eoko: -kicks Kitty- Wake up.

Kitty: -snorts- I don't wanna pet the fish...

Eoko: You don't have a pet fish. You have a pet cowboy.

Kitty: -wakes up- XD I'll pet him! I bought my cosplaying hat on Saturday. It only cost $11!

Eoko: Woot! I bought Dane Cook's Tourgasm DVD. WOOT!

Kitty: I put a pre-order on a game called Okami and also FINAL FANTASY XII!!!!!!!! Oh, and we finished Twilight Princess. XD

Eoko: Good things all around it seems. And an update, albeit a bit late, for all you readers.

Kitty: It's my fault 'cause I haven't been on much.

Eoko: Well, just think. You don't have to wait as long for the next!

Kitty: Hopefully... -giggles-

Eoko: This is true. Well, go read and enjoy!

Chapter, The Fifty-Ninth: In Which No One is Alone.

Three days later they were watching a movie after going out to dinner when Seifer knew he couldn’t possibly wait any longer. Irvine was half draped over himself, half draped over Zell, and the fighter was stroking his unbound hair. Seifer’s own hand stroked the sharpshooter’s thigh. Thus far, he hadn’t thought it polite to initiate anything, and besides, he’d reasoned as he held Irvine in the corridor that day, the poor thing was probably still tender from the night before.

But the veiled looks and kittenish noises Irvine kept giving signalled both the blonds that he didn’t care to wait anymore either. They exchanged glances and in the same moment as Zell bent to lick at Irvine’s neck, Seifer ran his hand higher, fingertips ghosting over the front of the sharpshooter’s pants. He sighed, a smile curving his elegant lips.

“Took you two long enough…” he breathed.

Zell just gave a low growl, nipping at Irvine’s skin and licking his throat like a hungry wolf. Seifer couldn’t help but watch him, captivated by the easy control he exerted over the sharpshooter and his reactions without even having to resort to a show of his considerable strength. He had never seen this side of Zell.

Then Irvine lifted his hips against the stilled hand, bringing Seifer’s attention back, and the gunbladist smirked, massaging teasingly. The sharpshooter gave a quavering moan, fingers curling into loose fists.

“Hyne, you make me feel unworthy… Like you’re a god or something…” Seifer breathed, hands going to the buttons of Irvine’s dress shirt. The sharpshooter blushed faintly, and it didn’t annoy Seifer anymore.

“You never said anything like that to me,” Zell complained theatrically, pouting at Seifer.

“That’s because you just make me feel like pinning you down and fucking you stupid.”

“Oh, that’s romantic…” Zell muttered. “Should I leave you two alone?”

“Naw… Kiss me instead,” Irvine purred in a tone that couldn’t be denied. Zell chuckled and bent to answer his request, fingers curling under the sharpshooter’s chin as he parted his lips beneath the fighter’s and welcomed his tongue with a tiny whimper. Zell kissed him tenderly, deeply and thoroughly, and one hand came up to the back of the fighter’s head, long fingers burying themselves in golden hair.

Seifer finally got all the buttons undone and pushed open Irvine’s shirt, wordlessly murmuring his appreciation at the revealed sight. He bent to lick at the sharpshooter’s navel and gained a groan and a slight arch in return.

“I think we should take this somewhere more comfortable…” Zell said lowly against Irvine’s mouth. Seifer ignored him, still lapping at the sharpshooter’s stomach, and Irvine could only whimper and twist. The fighter allowed himself a moment to watch them, a smile curving his lips, then he pushed at Seifer’s head, forcing him to back off.

“Zell…” Irvine whined.

Zell just laughed and lifted Irvine into his arms, standing in the same movement. Irvine grinned at Seifer, then turned his head and nipped at Zell’s neck as the fighter carried him through to the bedroom. Seifer wondered idly if they’d all known this would happen tonight, since they’d returned to his room by unanimous decision, and he did have the biggest bed.

Zell lay Irvine down and pushed the sharpshooter’s shirt off, then bent to capture a nipple between his lips, suckling gently. Seifer followed his lead, slipping onto the bed and descending on the neglected nipple. Irvine gave a strangled cry and arched off the bed, hands dropping to twist in the sheets.

“He’s so sensitive…” Seifer paused long enough to comment.

“I know,” Zell replied and Irvine moaned.

After a moment, Seifer sat up to fight his way out of his shirt, and Zell took the opportunity to straddle Irvine, pinning his arms above his head and kissing him hard and passionate. The sharpshooter lifted his knees, cradling Zell’s hips between his thighs, and whimpered into the kiss when the fighter rolled his hips in an overtly claiming movement. He fought Zell’s grip, wanting to touch him, wanting to get his clothes off, but the stocky blond ignored him, demanding with his tongue that Irvine respond to the kiss.

When Seifer made a low sound, Zell paused to look at him with a slight grin and Irvine panted softly, eyes mostly closed. The fighter sat up and reached for Seifer, fingers curving over his bare shoulders and pulling him into a kiss. He gave in to Seifer, opening his mouth and accepting the gunbladist’s tongue within his mouth, but at the same time, he rocked his hips against Irvine’s, balancing submission with dominance effortlessly. Then Seifer tackled him off Irvine and pinned him down, making the kiss deeper, hungrier, and Zell whimpered faintly, fingers clutching at Seifer’s pants.

Irvine blinked, then propped himself a little to see why the attentions had stopped. He couldn’t help the slight blush that coloured his cheeks. Watching the two of them together reminded him what he’d gotten himself into. And only three months ago he’d been ‘straight’. But he couldn’t deny being fascinated by the slow inch of Seifer’s hand down beneath the waistband of Zell’s shorts, or by watching their mouths move against one another. Nor could he deny being really turned on by it. In fact, he mused, he could gladly just watch them for the next three hours or so.

However, that wasn’t they were here and they all knew it. Seifer broke the kiss long enough to get rid of Zell’s shirt and before he could bend, Irvine had ducked in to lick at Zell’s navel, making him groan, then he worked his way up to a nipple. Seifer growled, but Irvine just laughed through his nose and reached out to pat the gunbladist’s leg consolingly. Then he bit gently at Zell’s nipple and the fighter squirmed, one hand gripping at Irvine’s hair.

“You really are quite the little sex kitten, aren’t you, Kinneas?” Seifer said, and Irvine looked up at him through red-gold lashes, smirking.

“I think you got Zell to thank for that,” he said.

“Nn… only a bit,” the fighter said humbly. “Believe me, he’s just a natural. I only had to help him see it.”

“And I guess I got both of you to thank for that,” Irvine added.

“Me? I didn’t do anything except…” Seifer trailed off and Irvine just smiled.

“Don’t worry none about that, Seifer… It’s past. I forgave Zell, I forgive you, too. I think you’ll be payin’ me back in spades anyhow.” The purr in his voice was unmistakable, and it made Seifer groan and pull him up for a kiss. Irvine submitted gladly, melting in that way the gunbladist was already addicted to. As the sharpshooter knelt up to give Seifer better access, Zell reached out to undo the sharpshooter’s pants and dip a hand inside, shifting silk boxers out of the way to wrap a hand around his length. Irvine whimpered into the kiss as Zell stroked him, and he clutched at Seifer’s shoulders while the gunbladist slid a hand into the waves of auburn hair.

Then Zell rubbed the pad of his thumb hard across the tip of Irvine’s length and he broke away from the kiss, hissing the fighter’s name. Seifer was faintly surprised the sharpshooter could keep track of who’s hands were where. But then, he mused, he probably knew Zell’s touch.

Zell gave a slight twist of his hand and Irvine yelped softly, burying his face against Seifer’s neck. The gunbladist met the fighter’s eyes and they both knew without having to speak that they would make sure Irvine enjoyed every second of tonight. They’d both treated him like dirt and he deserved that much from them.

Zell sat up, an arm sliding around Irvine’s waist and he kept stroking, making Irvine shiver against Seifer.

“I want to repay the favour from the other night…” Zell murmured against Irvine’s ear, voice low and throaty. “If Seifer doesn’t mind…”

Seifer just grinned as Zell nipped at Irvine’s ear, then between them they got rid of his socks, his pants and his boxers, then laid him down, and both sat back to look at him.

“Fuck, he’s beautiful…” Seifer said with an audible longing ache.

“I know,” Zell said, stroking his fingers though Seifer’s hair. “And he’s yours as well now. And believe me, he won’t argue any time you feel like stripping him naked and having him all over again.”

Instead of blushing like Seifer thought he might, the sharpshooter looked up at them and gave a slow smirk, stretching his arms above his head and arching and twisting his long body in an entirely purposeful provocative movement. Then he lowered a hand and ran it down his body, sighing softly.

“You two just goin’ to, like, sit there and admire the view…? I gonna have to do this for myself…?” he wondered lowly, hand inching closer to his own length.

“Not on your life, Cowboy…” Seifer growled and bent with Zell, both their tongues curling around Irvine’s length.

“Ah… It… it must be… S-S-Seifer’s turn… for this… n-next…” Irvine gasped, arching off the sheets.

“Don’t worry about next time, Cowboy!” Seifer demanded. “Just worry about enjoying this time.”

Zell chuckled and Irvine cried out as Seifer swiped his tongue over the tip and the fighter curled his around the base. No wonder Zell had seemed to enjoy this so much, Irvine thought through a fog of hot, wet pleasure, it felt unbelievable.

After several heartbeats, Irvine could take it no longer and he pushed himself up from the bed so fast, it surprised both his tormentors. He ended up sprawled over Seifer who smirked devilishly at him while he held himself on trembling arms and panted. The gunbladist’s hands came to his naked hips, thumbs stroking at the crease between thigh and pelvis, and he moved his hands further and further in, thumbs getting closer and closer to Irvine’s length.

“Seifer…” Irvine murmured, shivering when the gunbladist’s thumbs finally brushed lightly against him. “Stop it…”

“You don’t mean that, Beautiful…” Seifer asserted, grinning and now rubbing matching circles against either side of the base of Irvine’s length.

“S-sure I do… It… it ju-ust ain’t fair…” the sharpshooter complained, eyelids flickering.

“What ain’t?” Seifer teased, affecting Irvine’s drawl.

“That you haven’t so much as even uttered a moan yet,” Zell said matter-of-factly. “Right, Irvine?”

Irvine could only nod, fingers twitching against the sheets and body arching at the steadily-increasing caress of Seifer’s fingers. Zell reached over the gunbladist’s shoulders and took his wrists, pulling them away from Irvine’s thighs to the sound of a whine from said sharpshooter. The fighter pinned Seifer’s wrists above his head, then pressed a kiss to Irvine’s forehead to wake him up a little from the gunbladist-induced fog.

“Mmm…” the sharpshooter murmured faintly, then opened his mouth against Seifer’s chest, working his way along the lower curve of a pectoral until he found a likely spot, then went to work making a nice, purple hickey.

Seifer squirmed.

“Hey! Hey! Who said you could – ah… fuck…” The last came as Irvine rubbed the heel of one hand hard against the front of his pants, lips and teeth working harder still. After a few moments, he sat back to survey his handiwork and a smile curved his lips.

“I couldn’t have done it better myself,” Zell said, grinning.

“Sure you could,” Irvine replied, stroking his fingers across a mark by his hip.

“Maybe.” He flashed another grin.

Irvine stretched out atop Seifer, then wriggled downward to nose at the front of his pants. He opened his mouth, moving his teeth in an almost massaging motion against the material and what lay beneath. Seifer gave a shuddering moan and Zell brought his mouth to a nipple, adding a sharp, wet pleasure to the dull, taunting one.

“Oh, Hyne… wh-where did you learn…?”

“Zell, of course…” Irvine paused long enough to reply.

“Of c-course… Ah!”

Neither Seifer or Zell were willing to let Irvine do very much work for very long, so it was only a short time before Zell was shifting away from Seifer’s chest and moving behind Irvine, drawing him into a kneeling position and wrapping one arm around his waist. The other hand went around the sharpshooter’s length and stroked slowly, giving Seifer a moment to collect himself.

The gunbladist looked at them through lidded eyes, a smile curling his lips as Irvine let his head drop back against Zell’s shoulder, exposing his elegant throat. He moaned and his hips lifted, making obvious his dissatisfaction with the slow pace of the fighter’s hand. Seifer thought he just might have died and gone to heaven when one of the sharpshooter’s own long-fingered hands joined Zell’s, forcing a faster, harder stroking.

“Eager, are we…?” Zell purred, voice low and growling and totally at odds with the way he usually sounded under Seifer. He glanced at Seifer, then put his mouth against Irvine’s ear, whispering so only the sharpshooter could hear him. “What do you want…? Do you mind if I let Seifer take you again…?”

“D-don’t stop… Zell… please…” Irvine whimpered and Seifer couldn’t resist coming forward. He straddled the auburn-haired man and drew his face down to kiss him, tongue plunging into that willing warmth.

“Irvine, baby…” Zell whispered. “Is it alright?”

“Yes!” Irvine cried softly against Seifer’s mouth, highly frustrated by the fact that Zell had slowed their hands again. “Yes, please… please…”

The fighter grinned while Seifer caught Irvine’s mouth again, making him whine.

“It isn’t me you should be saying please to…” he murmured against the sharpshooter’s ear.

Irvine made another soft sound, clutching at Seifer’s shoulders and making rhythmic, silently begging movements with his hips. He broke the kiss and threw his head back again when Seifer dropped a hand to rub his palm at the tip of Irvine’s length.

“Oh, Hyne… Oh, please… Ooh, Seifer… Z-Zell… I… need…”

“Yes? Tell us,” Zell said, his free hand stroking gently at Irvine’s thigh.

“…You… I need you… One of you… please…”

“Zell-” Seifer started, but the fighter smiled and shook his head a little.

“No, you, Seifer. I know you want him.”

“But… you’ll be… you’ll have to… again…” Seifer grit his teeth when Irvine made a pleading little sound.

“Oh, I don’t think so…” Zell said with a slight smirk. “I’ve got it under control. You get this cowboy under control before he does something to ruin all our fun.” And he held up a tube which Seifer took hesitantly. Zell gave a reassuring wink, then pushed Irvine into Seifer’s arms.

The sharpshooter’s hands went instantly to Seifer’s spine, stroking and touching and he licked at the gunbladist’s collarbone.

“Seifer…” he murmured, stretching out the name and making it into a plea that couldn’t be denied. Seifer laid Irvine down on the bed, uncapped the tube and coated his fingers, then put the tube aside and gently coaxed the sharpshooter’s legs apart with his free hand. Irvine needed little guidance and he lifted his hips encouragingly. The gunbladist leaned over him and gently eased a finger within, watching him closely for any sign of discomfort. Of course, there was none, and in fact he gave an eager little sigh. Seifer made sure he was ready before adding a second finger.

Zell’s warmth came against his back and he gave a slight smile, turning to kiss the fighter’s cheek as he gently prepared Irvine.

“Are you sure about this? I mean-”

Seifer cut off as a slick finger ran around his entrance then pressed gently inside, knowing and swift. He hissed softly, then gave a gentle moan.

“I’m sure. Are you? Let’s face it, we both want to take him, but we have to take turns. I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t want to make love to him and know you’re sitting out by yourself watching. As much of a turn-on as that is, it’s nothing compared to participation-”

“Too much talkin’…” Irvine complained.

“-and I want to participate.”

Seifer was silent for a long moment, and still as well so that Irvine wriggled in an effort to make his fingers move. Zell’s finger worked deeper and he shuddered. It had been a long time since anyone had taken him, but suddenly, the idea of Zell doing it made his heartbeat quicken. He nodded and Zell smiled against his neck, then added a second finger. He had to admit, the little fighter was good at it.

Irvine gave a happy sigh when he moved his fingers again, and it wasn’t long before the sharpshooter was fully prepared. He removed his fingers, then coated his own length and held Irvine’s thighs, moaning lowly as Zell’s fingers readied him and the fighter licked at the nape of his neck.

“Seifer…” Irvine complained.

“Patience, baby,” Zell soothed. “You know what’s coming.”

“That’s why… I can’t be patient…”

Zell chuckled and removed his fingers, making Seifer shiver.

“You first, Seifer-lover…” he murmured.

Seifer was only too glad to oblige. He gently lifted Irvine’s hips and eased slowly within the sharpshooter, watching his squirming with great delight. He was unspeakably glad that this was not another one-off. He stilled when he was completely within Irvine and ran his eyes over… his lover’s long form.

His lover… Oh, that felt good.

“Ready?” Zell murmured.

“Mmm…” Seifer nodded, stroking Irvine’s stomach and thighs in an effort to calm his pleading mewlings. “Just hurry up, before Irvine explodes…”

Zell chuckled.

“He’s always like that,” he said softly, affectionately, then gently entered Seifer. The gunbladist shuddered and swallowed audibly, forced to put one hand against the sheets beside Irvine’s shoulder and clutch there. “Relax…” Zell whispered, pausing. Seifer forced himself to, some part of him marvelling at the fighter’s easy manner of dominance. It calmed him, and he was sure it had calmed a lot of first-timers in the past, Irvine included. “Hyne…” the fighter hissed against his ear.

Seifer chuckled brokenly, then made a soft, soothing noise at Irvine, who was by now chewing his lip and nuzzling at the pillows.

“Please… please, Seifer!” he begged softly.

“Go, Seifer…” Zell’s words panted against his ear, and Seifer gladly did as he was told. He set a rhythm and the fighter soon joined him. Seifer cried out, his voice blending with Irvine’s. The double-pleasure was, to put it in cliché terms, mind-blowing.

Irvine lifted his long legs and wrapped them around both his lovers’ waists, clutching at the sheets and arching his back to meet Seifer’s thrusts.

“Oh…” Zell said softly, tears springing to his eyes. This was what he needed. What he’d always needed without knowing he needed it. This way, he would never have to leave one of them alone on special days. This way, he could have either, both, whenever he wanted, whenever they wanted, and they could have each other.

This was perfect.

“Seifer!” Irvine cried and Seifer groaned back, then wrapped a hand around Irvine’s length, stroking in time with the movements of his hips. The sharpshooter could hardly believe how right Seifer’s name sounded from his own throat. He could feel them both between his legs, power, strength, muscle, all tamed and leashed so they wouldn’t hurt him. He loved it.

He loved… them. Both of them… And he had to say so.

“Seifer…” he whimpered, reaching up to pull the gunbladist down towards him, fingers tangled in his hair. Zell bent as well, and he was glad, because he wanted the fighter to hear as well. “Seifer… I… know it ain’t been… long… but I… I… love… you…”

Seifer’s eyes went wide, and his rhythm failed for a moment, upsetting the whole balance and forcing everyone to a halt. Irvine gave a low cry of distress.

“I… I…” Seifer stammered.

“You… d-don’t gotta answer… I just… just wanted you… and Zell… to know… P-please… Sei-eifer… I can’t… can’t stand it… if you don’t… if you don’t m-move!”

That, Seifer could do without thinking, and he did it, and Zell joined him in a moment and all three of them thought they would die of pleasure and sensation. Their moans and cries filled the room, and none of them wanted the moment to end, but it did, with Irvine giving a low, desperate cry of their names. Seifer followed him, and Zell wasn’t even a heartbeat behind them. Their cries mingled and their hands clutched.

“Oh… my…” Irvine said what seemed like hours later.

“That’s all… you can… say…?” Seifer panted against his neck, coming to the awareness that he was sprawled inelegantly across Irvine, Zell in his turn across the gunbladist’s back.

“Can’t think…” Irvine replied. “Squashed…”

Never had two men moved so quickly after such a thorough lovemaking. They dragged themselves off and away, going one to each side of the sated sharpshooter and kissing his shoulders, his hair, his eyelids, his lips, his nose, his hands until he didn’t know who’s mouth was pressing tender kisses where.

“…Stop… Sleepy…” he managed eventually and Zell chuckled, shifting back up to lay at Irvine’s side. Seifer kissed his stomach a few times, then moved to lay down as well. Their arms went around the sharpshooter and Seifer curled his leg over the other two’s hips.

“Hey, Dincht…” he said lazily. “You’re a pretty good top after all…”

Irvine gave a tired giggle and Zell snorted.

“Shut up, Seifer. Go… to sleep…” the fighter murmured, his own eyes already flickering shut.

“Mmm…” Irvine agreed, snuggling down between his lovers. Never had he felt so safe…

Seifer said nothing, but he smiled and buried his nose in Irvine’s long hair, slipping off to sleep with the sharpshooter’s scent in his nose.

Things were very good.